I'd like to thank...

"...God and my family and my teammates." That may not be an exact quote, but that's the gist of what the young man said to the TV announcer after leading his team to victory. He went on to describe what went right for Illinois and what a long way they've come since they lost to Ohio State a year ago.

As postgame on-field interviews go, it seemed harmless enough. The kid, Juice Williams, had played remarkably well, making smart plays at crunch time in a huge win against the number-one-ranked team in the country. Considering that he is a college sophomore, probably 19 years old, playing quarterback in the Big Ten, getting this kind of attention on national TV, I thought he conducted himself well. Rather than acting like God's Gift to Football, he gave all the credit to the people around him and his notion of a higher power. What's not to like?

I was somewhat stunned the next morning in church when Rev. Susan, whom I like and respect for her depth and humor, voiced her superficial and humorless objections to the young man's remarks. What she heard - that he thanked God for His help in defeating the other team, for blessing the Illini instead of the Buckeyes - was quite different from what I heard - that he credited others for his success, that he was grateful for being able to play so well. I guess it's a fine line.

Back in the days when the Boston Celtics ruled pro basketball, their center was an enlightened being named Bill Russell. Besides being an extraordinarily quick and strong six-foot-nine, Russell was a defensive genius and a team player par excellence who had a knack for raising the performance of everybody on both teams to another level. After his retirement he wrote an article describing the fleeting joy of taking part in the kind of competition (LL "seeking together" according to Web10) where who wins or loses is almost beside the point.

Almost - not quite - because everybody is trying; otherwise they wouldn't be "seeking together" or raising each other to a higher level of performance. Dig?

Blessing and being blessed are complicated, and to Rev. Susan's credit, she went on to unpack some of the complexities of giving thanks, and it is that time of year. What I find irritating is the assumption that the big jock sure can run, he sure can throw, but he's too simple-minded to conceive of anything more subtle than "Please God Help Us Win" - the sports equivalent of "God Bless Our Troops." Righteously indignant nonathletes are quick to judge those who actually play the game (rather than sitting on the couch) and quick be appalled at the silly tribal behavior of both players and fans.

To be fair, I too rage at some of the gifted assholes who get rich and famous while abusing their bodies, their opponents, their peers, the public, their spouses, and their drug of choice. The sports section of the paper is full of their names and their egos. I also have major theological differences with the Illinois quarterback, which I hope to discuss with him while we throw the ball around.

But it's not the theological question of where the blessings come from that has me steamed up. It's the distribution of blessings. When warmonger patriots proudly plant "God bless our troops" in their front yards, they are explicitly directing their pious request at the armed forces attacking and conquering another country, implicitly excluding Iraqi troops (evildoers) from that blessing. When liberal intellectuals decry the sophomore quarterback's thanking his god for a good game, they can't conceive of a universalist deity showering strength, speed, and agility on 22 undergraduates at one time and enjoying the game.

Thank you, earth and sky, wind and water, birds and beasts, flowers and trees, all cells of one body.